


she's so bright

by fellstars



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Bisexual Sasha James, Bisexual Tim Stoker, F/M, First Kiss, MAG86 just hurt me i think, Mutual Pining, Sleepy Cuddles, alcohol mention, that's basically it i don't know what else to add.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-02-23 10:47:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23576956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fellstars/pseuds/fellstars
Summary: “You okay? You’ve slowed down a little.”Sasha’s trying to hide a wince. “My heels are kinda killing me,” she admits sheepishly. “It’s fine, we can just stop for a bit and then carry on.”Tim stops walking, and so does she but he’s far from allowing what she’s just suggested. “Take them off.”She blinks at him. It’s endearing. “What?”“Your heels,” Tim helpfully clarifies. “Take them off.”After some hesitation, she does, and god, Tim’s heart pangs a little painfully at how small she is. She’s so perfect. “Now what?”He takes the heels from her, noticing how glossy and new they still look (he feels bad, it seems as though she bought them just for tonight), and bends down a little. “Hop on.”-Sasha gets stood up on a date, and Tim comes to the rescue.
Relationships: Sasha James & Tim Stoker, Sasha James/Tim Stoker
Comments: 16
Kudos: 183





	she's so bright

**Author's Note:**

> first tma fic... it's about the Yearning
> 
> yes im still on s3 bc i have a terrible attention span (shoutout to adhd) yes i will write a 4k fic instead of trying to catch up to s5 what about it
> 
> based off this [tweet](https://twitter.com/rhysymmetra/status/1248349715764314118?s=20)...
> 
> i wrote it all in one sitting i have brain rot i think
> 
> enjoy :)!

“He’s an ass, y’know.”

Sasha snorts and swirls her drink. Her curls are loose now, her impressive bun abandoned over the second drink, though she doesn't seem to care very much for it. She looks at him from above her frames, and her lips twitch into a wry smile. “Yeah. I know.”

Tim thinks she’s gorgeous, even in the low lighting of this lousy pub they slipped into earlier, arms linked together in the mid-summer haze. The sky’s done with its bloodshed now, and it's diluted into soft pinks and oranges, due to filter into the blue of the night. A night like this is a gift for London to behold; if only the air pollution would thin to let the starlight through. He’d like to take Sasha stargazing one day. But until then, he will simply Sasha-gaze. It’s arguably a better sight than anything the sky can ever share with him.

She seems to be _Tim_ -gazing a little, too, although that might just be his imagination and wishful thinking. She continues to smile at him as she sips her drink. Tim licks his lips a little nervously. Tim never gets nervous in front of people, and yet Sasha seems to have that effect on him. It’s almost funny until it’s a little scary. Tim Stoker, flirt extraordinaire - insides doing all sorts of flips and tricks under his colleagues eyes. It’s almost funny until it’s a little scary, then it’s a little scary until it’s welcoming.

He’s a smitten man, and to whom he’ll admit it - if ever - he’s unsure. Maybe Sasha herself one day. He doesn’t suppose either of them are going anywhere anytime soon, so he thinks he has time to settle into this.

Tim continues, as smoothly as he can manage. “I’ve gotten stood up before, too. Sucks majorly, but I see it as a dodged bullet of sorts.” He takes a small swing of his beer. It tastes a little cheap. “Like, clearly you’re not meant to be if the bloke didn’t even turn up.”

She sighs and lets her head loll onto her open palm that’s propped up by her elbow. “I suppose… To be fair, it’s my fault for trying online dating. Work’s just been so busy lately, I haven’t much time to really _meet_ people.”

He waves her off, although not unkindly. “You’re not at fault for trying to find someone. Looking can be exhausting sometimes, though. Sometimes I wish I could stop it.” As he says it, he thinks about how true those words _were_ _,_ rather than are. “Actually… I think I might have... Stopped, I mean. I didn’t even realise it.” He huffs a small laugh. It’s true; he can’t remember the last time he actively sought out a date, and he’s only been flirting on the job to get something or with…

Sasha watches him, and she’s smiling. “Maybe you’ve found someone without even realising it.”

There’s no implication behind her words. She hasn’t a clue.

Tim just smiles back. “Maybe.” He hopes the beer will wash the butterflies in his gut out. He hasn’t felt butterflies since forever. They feel childish now. “Uh, can I get you a refill?”

She rubs at her eyes a bit and shakes her head. “No, I’m alright, thanks. Might head off soon. I have plans to see my parents in the morning, and the sooner I get myself to bed then the lighter the hangover will be - or so I hope.”

He laughs at that, and rises. The chair’s squeals against the wooden floor are muffled by the loudness of the pub. He grabs his jacket and offers his hand to Sasha. “I’ll take you home.”

Sasha seems a little unsure. “I don’t want you getting home late because of me.”

“Trust me, I’ll sleep better knowing I got you back safe. London’s berserk on Friday nights.”

Her lips twist a little again, and he can see her thinking. “Alright,” She stands as well and takes his hand. “Only because I find it hard to let a gentleman down nicely.” He likes it when she teases.

“Well then, aren’t I lucky?” He looks stupid, smiling that widely, he knows.

The streets are a little crowded, and they hold hands as they weave in and out of drunkards and partygoers. Tim tells himself it’s so they don’t get separated to ease himself. It’s hard to find a sparser street in Central, but they manage it somehow as they head towards the nearest Tube station. Sasha’s hands are smaller than his, although he expected that with how short she is, especially compared to him. It’s sweet, and he thinks he could get used to it, even though there’s nothing to get used to. _Not yet,_ the hopeful side to his brain argues.

They walk in silence that’s comfortable and familiar, hands still joined even though there’s hardly a risk of one getting stranded. He doesn’t say anything about it, though, and neither does she. What he does say, when he notices, is, “You okay? You’ve slowed down a little.”

Sasha’s trying to hide a wince. “My heels are kinda killing me,” she admits sheepishly. “It’s fine, we can just stop for a bit and then carry on.”

Tim stops walking, and so does she but he’s far from allowing what she’s just suggested. “Take them off.”

She blinks at him. It’s endearing. “What?”

“Your heels,” Tim helpfully clarifies. “Take them off.”

After some hesitation, she does, and _god,_ Tim’s heart pangs a little painfully at how small she is. She’s so perfect. “Now what?”

He takes the heels from her, noticing how glossy and new they still look (he feels bad, it seems as though she bought them just for tonight), and bends down a little. “Hop on.” She doesn’t argue against it, which he’s glad about, and she mirrors his grin back before she does so. She’s light, and it’s easy to readjust her on his back. “Comfy?”

She hums in approval, and her arms rest loosely around his neck. He feels her warm breath at the crook of it, where she squishes her cheek there. “Thanks, Timmy.”

His heart is due to combust any minute now. “Anything for you, Sash. Now,” He makes sure he’s gripping her alright. “Onwards!” He feigns a gallop, and she giggles into the night.

They chatter mindlessly on their way to the station, and the Tube staff there don’t even give them strange looks as they clumsily both try to tap in with Sasha still on his back. Tim knows they’ve seen weirder things than a hopeless man and his work-crush. Sasha holds on tighter as they ride the escalator down to the trains, and Tim promises her he wouldn’t drop her, not for a million pounds.

“Don’t want you to get your feet dirty,” he tells her.

He can hear the eyeroll in her tone. “So we’re recklessly doing a piggyback ride down to avoid that?”

“Yeah, you get it!”

Her laugh is like honey.

Once they reach the bottom, an employee chides them for it, and Tim has to keep a straight face as he talks to her, because Sasha’s shaking a little with held back laughter. He squeezes her thighs to try and tell her to stop, but it only makes it worse and he almost breaks his mature demeanour. They loudly wish the employee a goodnight, to which she shakes her head and mutters something about Londoners, and wait on the platform for Sasha’s train. Neither have mentioned how they live in opposite directions, nor how late Tim will be getting home. He doesn’t care one bit, if he’s honest.

“Isn’t your back sore?” Sasha yells over the sound of the train pulling in.

“Not at all!” he yells back. Even if it were, he would still carry her.

“We can try and snag some seats!”

There’s only one seat left open on the carriage they push into - of _course_ there is - and Tim ushers Sasha to sit in it. She refuses and pulls him over to sit there himself, and he does, only to wrap his arms around her middle and sit her down on his lap. She shrieks with laughter and leans her back into him. He perches his chin on her shoulder, and she rests her head against his. Her hair tickles him a little, but he doesn’t mind, and simply traces small circles onto her hip bone. She doesn’t tell him to stop.

They have to switch over once to another train, and this time there’s two open seats right next to each other, which Tim mourns a little, but that flies out of the window and into the tracks when Sasha finds a way to touch knees with him as they sit, arms looped around his as she rests her head against him again. He feels giddy. _Giddy._ He doesn’t think he’s ever felt giddy in his entire life, not like this at least. He can see their reflection in the window opposite them. They look like a couple, with the way Sasha clings onto him, eyes closed and lashes spread onto her dark cheeks. She’s so pretty, even though she would argue that her makeup’s a mess (it’s not, it's just a little smudged from where she would rub at her eyes), and that her hair looks terrible (he’s always preferred it down and framing her face). She’s so pretty, and perfect, and it’s selfish how he hopes they deceive the general public sharing the carriage with them into thinking they’re dating.

Tim’s sure she’s dozed off, which he doesn’t mind; he knows what stop to get off at and he’s going to carry her to her place anyway. He feels like an ass, gently rousing her awake again when they need to get ready to get up, but she smiles a soft, sleep-laced smile that chases the small spout of guilt away. He holds her heels and helps her off the train and onto the platform, waiting for it to clear a little of people before lowering himself for Sasha to jump on again. They risk getting told off by another employee, but they seem a little too preoccupied dealing with a drunk man to really care for them, and they tap out a little smoother than the first time.

The air’s chilly despite the beating warmth of the day earlier when they leave the station, and Sasha shivers a little. Tim tells her to shimmy off and sheds his jacket. It looks far too big on her when she finally gives in and puts it on, and it’s enough to make Tim's heart clench. He walks them to the bus stop down the street, and a bus arrives just as they get there. Sasha insists on standing in the disabled area in the near-empty bus, claiming that it’s only a few stops and she doesn’t want to fall asleep again. She leans into him, though, and apologises a little too much when the driver halts abruptly, making her crash into him a little hard. He assures her it’s fine, and holds her closer with an arm. He hopes he’s not imagining the smile she wears as he does.

A thank-you to the driver is called as they get off, and Tim walks them a few streets towards Sasha’s place. His memory is a little vague here, and she helps direct him to her door in between their conversation. She’s sobered up a bit, he can tell.

“You do know you’re staying the night, right?”

Tim flushes a little at the idea - not that he expects anything to _happen_ \- and he splutters embarrassingly. “I couldn’t, I -”

She huffs and smacks his shoulder lightly. “Don’t be silly, the journey back is way too long, you’d be home far too late - left.”

“I thought you said right earlier?”

“No, no, I meant it as part of the question. Go left.”

Oh, right, my bad,” He clucks at her when she shakes her head fondly and squeezes her again lightly. When she laughs, he says, “I can order an Uber, y’know.”

“That’s _money._ You’ve stayed before, and I don’t mind you being here. I can sleep on the sofa bed-”

“- Absolutely _not -”_

“- and I’ll cook you breakfast before I have to go see my parents. As a _thank-you,_ Timmy.”

She has to know how that nickname makes him soft, because he sighs and relents. “Alright, fine. Thanks.”

“Not at all.”

She hops off his back when they reach her front door, and she rummages for her keys in the small bag she’d brought along with her. Tim hears a _meow_ from inside when the door swings open, and she pushes him in first before turning the lights on. Sasha’s cat is sprawled on the carpeted stairs, and watches them lazily as his owner hangs up Tim’s jacket onto the peg, taking both his shoes and her heels from him before hiding them away into the shoe cabinet.

“Is your roommate out?” Tim asks as Sasha goes to the kitchen to get them both some drinks - non-alcoholic this time.

“Yeah, she’s on holiday with her girlfriend right now.” There’s some slight jealousy to her tone, and Tim can’t blame her when he remembers the supposed (and rather likely) showers his weather app predicts despite how nice today was.

“Lucky cow…” he mutters, and Sasha snickers. He accepts the squash she offers him, and they both drink in silence until Tim wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and puts the glass away into the sink. “How do you set the sofa bed up, then?”

Sasha hums around her mouthful and swallows. “You’re a little stubborn aren’t you,” she asks mildly.

Tim raises his hands in mock surrender. “Me? Stubborn? Not at all.” He smiles dazzlingly at her.

She snorts and her glass joins his in the sink before she places a hand in the small of his back, prompting him over towards the living room. She moves over the pillows and the blanket draped across the sofa cushions and he helps her set the bed up. He pets Mister Tabby as he waits for her to bring down some pillows and a light cover for him to sleep with, and the cat purrs under his touch.

“Think he likes me,” he grins up at Sasha as she comes back in.

“Interesting. He doesn’t usually take to people he doesn’t see often. He still scratches my roommate sometimes.” She watches them for a moment before setting the bed up.

“Really?” Tim looks down at Mister Tabby. “Huh. Maybe I’m just special.”

There’s sincerity behind Sasha’s “You are.” and it brings the flips and somersaults of his stomach back into action. “Right, that’s sorted. Come with me, I’ll give you a towel and you can shower while I get this -” She gestures to her face vaguely and the makeup there, “- off.”

“Oh, I can shower in the morning,” Tim offers.

“And let you stink up my sofa with beer? _Pfft,_ yeah, right.”

He pulls a face, feigning hurt. “You wound me, Sash.”

“Sue me, Stoker.”

He likes when she’s like this, witty and a little sharp-tongued for the fun. He likes that she can be like this with him.

She shoves a clean towel into his hands before showing him how to use the shower, which he thinks is adorable of her to do, even though her shower seems pretty standard. She offers him a big shirt that’s definitely oversized for her.

“It’s an ex’s. Just something for you to sleep in,” she tells him awkwardly.

Tim takes it, and looks at it carefully as he breathes a small laugh. “Steal from all your exes, do you?”

“Nope. Just that one. She was a bitch.”

He laughs at that, and she smirks a little at her own words before he thanks her and locks the door behind himself. He strips off his clothes and waits for warm water to run from the showerhead before standing underneath it. He didn’t realise how cold his skin was earlier until the water feels like its burning him a little. He remembers it's because he gave Sasha his jacket. If he’s honest, he’s willing to ‘accidentally’ leave it behind for her. She looks good in it.

Once he steps out of the shower and dries himself off quickly, he pads out of the bathroom in the shirt and his boxers. “Sash?” He holds his towel as he ventures into the hall, knocking at her door gently with his knuckles. When she calls that it’s fine for him to come in, the door creaks a little as he pushes it open. “Hey, where should I put the towel?”

She has her back to him when he comes in, and turns around when he hovers at the doorway. “Oh, you can hang it from the railings,” she tells him. Her makeup’s wiped off now, and her hair is up in a lazy ponytail. Her pyjamas are on her bed, ready for her to grab before she heads to the shower herself.

“Right, cool. Thanks.” He goes to do just that, but her voice stops him.

“Tim?”

He doubles back a bit. “Yeah?”

She approaches him, wringing her hands a little. “I just want to thank you again. For tonight. You really didn’t have to do anything for me.”

He smiles at her. “Like I said, anything for you.”

She mimics his smile, and drops her gaze to her feet. “I… didn’t even mean to call you. My hands just sort of did that by themselves, if you’d believe it.” She laughs a little nervously at the confession.

“Maybe you’re possessed,” Tim jokes.

Sasha snorts a laugh. “Yeah, maybe. Either way, I’m glad I called you. And that you came.”

Tim wishes he could explain why he feels a little breathless suddenly. “Me too. I had fun. Sorry again, that you got stood up.”

A shrug. “I don’t mind as much now that I got to spend more time with you.” Tim nods, and they dissolve into silence. She blows out a small breath. “Goodnight, then. I’ll wake you up for breakfast.”

Tim knows he should just go downstairs and bid her a goodnight too. “Sasha, I…”

Dare he say she looks hopeful? “Yeah…?”

He licks his lips, and looks down. He’s being _bashful._ That’s a dwarf trait, not a Tim Stoker trait. “You can slap me if you want for this.”

Sasha’s brows are drawn in confusion. “For wh -”

She’s cut off by his lips on hers. It’s short and delicate, just as he imagined it would be to kiss her. He pulls away as quickly as he swooped in, feeble heart beating against his ribcage madly. He stammers, trying to get an apology out, because just _now_ he’s realised that might have just been a dick move.

But then Sasha stands on her tiptoes and pulls him down by the stretched-out shirt she gave him, and they’re kissing again. Tim feels a little dizzy as he slips his eyes shut, dropping the towel and putting his arms around her carefully. Her glasses press against his cheek a little, but he doesn’t mind. She tastes like the sweet drink she had at the pub earlier, and he’s suddenly glad to have gargled some of the mouthwash in the bathroom before this. This kiss is a little firmer, and _Christ,_ she’s smiling into his lips.

Tim Stoker; flirt extraordinaire taken down by the oh-so-perfect Sasha James.

He wouldn’t have it any other way.

Sasha drops back down to her normal height, panting a little as she touches her lips, as if in disbelief. Tim feels very much the same, and his own lips _tingle._ They fucking _tingle._ What kind of teen bullshit is this?

“Well,” he manages out after a few beats of silence “You didn’t slap me.”

She laughs breathily and shakes her head. “No… No, I didn’t.”

Stupidly, he says, “You kissed me.”

She gapes a little at him, as if the accusation flusters her more than the act. “Yeah, well, you - you kissed me first!”

He’s playfully smug. “And you _liked_ it.”

He deserves the smack he gets to the chest, but the absolute adorable scandalised face she makes at his words is worth it. _"Stooop!"_

The fact that he laughs at that seems to fluster her even more, because she hides her face in his chest. He hopes to god she can’t tell how fast his heart is beating. “Alright, alright, sorry.” His fingers find her hair and he plays with it absently. “So… What now?”

Sasha’s voice is a little muffled. “I still have to shower. But… the sofa bed can be a little uncomfortable…”

He grins. “Only if you’re the little spoon.”

“As _if_ I could be the big spoon, have you seen our height difference?”

“Sweetheart, sometimes all I think about _is_ our height difference.”

Her breath hitches a little, and his ears only just catch it. “Sweet-” It’s as if her mouth can’t form the rest of the word.

There’s a spike of panic in his voice. “Is that okay?” She just nods, and Tim cheeks are starting to ache with how much smiling he’s doing. He kisses her head. “Alright, shower and I’ll clear up the sofa bed downstairs. Deal?”

“Deal,” she says into his chest before peeling herself back. She hides her face in her pyjamas as she walks past him.

“Cute,” Tim comments, and he hears her squeal a little into the fabric. It makes him swoon.

He hangs the towel on the railing when he picks it up and hurries downstairs to put the sofa bed back. He wishes Mister Tabby a goodnight and salutes him cheerily before flipping the lights off. He feels light, like gravity no longer has an influence on him the more he thinks about Sasha’s lips against his, and he jumps a little as he reaches the top of the stairs, the bathroom door unlocking to reveal her.

“Hi,” he breathes.

“Hi,” Sasha breathes back.

She pulls down her blinds as Tim collapses into her comfortable double bed. He’s Sasha-gazing again, and this time it’s with unapologetic adoration that he can’t bring himself to hide anymore. She catches him in the act, and she averts her eyes as she turns the main light off. He makes grabby hands for her to make her giggle, which, to his delight, it does, and he pulls her close to him when she lies down and pulls the covers over them.

“Your hair smells like strawberries,” he mumbles, and it’s true; he smells it now as his nose is buried in it. “I like it.”

Sasha mumbles a hesitant “Good…” and he moves his head to kiss her temple.

“You’re beautiful, Sash.”

“Tim...” She sounds embarrassed.

“I mean it. Absolutely gorgeous.”

She doesn’t say anything, and Tim hopes she’s letting it sink in. He’ll tell her all of that every day if he has to. She just plays with his fingers in silence for a bit, before asking, “How long?”

He knows what she means, and no matter how hard he tries, he can’t really quite pin down a time. “I’m not sure,” he says honestly. “You?”

“I think something started developing after the Christmas party,” she whispers.

 _Oh._ “That’s quite a while.”

“Yeah, well I thought you were a little out of my league for me to do anything about it.”

 _“Really?!”_ Tim’s surprised.

“Yeah…”

He pulls her a little closer, their legs tangling together. She’s still warm from her shower. “Couldn’t have been more wrong.”

“Mm. I see that now... “

“Good. I’ll remind you however often I need to.”

She sounds a little sleepy, and she yawns. “You’re too sweet.”

Tim reaches to turn the bed light off above them. “You’re sweeter.” He gets no reply, and he listens for a bit as her breathing gets slower. “Goodnight, Sash,” he whispers and presses one last kiss to her temple.

**Author's Note:**

> set towards the end of season one. tim won't know where he went wrong when not-sasha will break it off.
> 
> title from televised by HUNNY
> 
> follow my [twt](https://twitter.com/GRlFTERSBONE?s=20)


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